


Her Fault

by ElfrootAndEezo



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Blushing Alistair (Dragon Age), Drabble, Embarrassment, F/M, First Love, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 04:12:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13310160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElfrootAndEezo/pseuds/ElfrootAndEezo
Summary: Alistair finds himself injured and it's all Elissa's fault.





	Her Fault

There was something in the way she plucked arrows from her quiver, and something more in the way she pulled her bow taut before unleashing calculated fury on their enemies. He’d taken a blow to the face and it was all her fault.

Every time he saw her pull her bow tight he was caught. He didn’t know why her arms affected him so. He’d often found himself admiring her other physical assets, or caught off guard by the playful curl of her smile.

Her arms were different though.

Elissa seemed unknowing of the effect her arms had on him. Feelings between them were mutual, he was sure. Maybe. He was mostly sure. She seemed to spend more time with him than any of the others; his gift to her had been well received too. Still, she was unaware. Blind to the way his mouth ran dry each time she shot her bow.

She smiled at him, bow discarded on the ground beside him. The grass was wet against his back, morning dew seeping into each crevice of his armour. Oghren was muttering curses as he trudged towards them; the fighting must be over.

“Is it just me, or did I do really badly back there?” He rolled to the side, spitting blood onto the grass.

“Careful Alistair.” Elissa’s voice was gentle as she helped him sit. His head throbbed immensely at the movement, spots clouding his vision.

“Dreaming of buttering the biscuit?” Oghren clapped a hand against his shoulder, shoving a flask into his hand. Alistair jerked away from Oghren’s excessively strong pat, eyeing the flask with suspicion. The dwarf nodded at the flask, while Elissa called the evil forest witch to come and help.

With a grimace, Alistair downed the liquid. He coughed and spluttered immediately, flinging the flask back at Oghren in distaste. Elissa turned her attention back to them, and eyed the flask.

“Oghren.” Elissa turns to the dwarf. “That flask. What was in it?”

“Dwarven brew.” Oghren beams.

A small noise escaped Alistairs lips as the world spun.

“Please Morrigan.”

“I’m not a healer! Take the fool back to Wynne, tis his own fault anyway.”

Alistair closed his eyes as he listened to them bicker, he was tired. And heavy. With his eyes closed it was easy to silence them out.

He jolted awake to find his arms gripped. Alistair blinked away his grogginess, trying to work out just what was happening. He was bouncing, and the smell of peaches was tickling his nose. Elissa. She had an iron grip on his arms -which were wrapped around her neck- and was hunched over, carrying his bumbling self on her back.

“Peaches.” He mumbled.

“Hmm?”

“You smell like peaches.” Alistair sighed, closing his eyes once more. She was warm, and he rested his head against the heat of her neck.

Elissa shushed him and continued heaving his heavy body back towards camp. He presumed that’s where they were heading anyway. Wynne would surely want to scold him, and probably tease too.

\---

Alistair startled awake to the cooling sensation of Wynne’s magic. The dizzying feeling of his body knitting back together had always left him feeling uneasy. The mix of Oghren’s brew didn’t help.

“How are you feeling?” He eased at the sound of Wynne’s voice.

“Just peachy.” He groaned.

“Was it the hips?” Wynne chuckled, awfully cheerful.

“What? No!” Alistair spluttered, doing his best to sit up and disappear. Body betraying him, his cheeks began to blush. Wynne’s laughter echoed around the camp, drawing the attention of the rest of their group. Just what he needed. More teasing. He sighed, lowering his voice to appease her. “Arms.”

“Arms?” Wynne looked bewildered.

“Yes arms.” Alistair huffed, as Wynne resumed her healing. “It’s all her fault.”

She watched him expectantly, clearly expecting more. Alistair sighed, throwing his hands up before mentally cursing himself. That hurt.

“It’s just… they’re… strong?”

“Oh, Alistair.” Wynne smiled fondly, patting his arm as she finished healing. “It’s very sweet how much you adore her, but please pay attention in battle.”

He opened his mouth to speak but Wynne shut him down with a single look.

“And where you’re going.” He huffed and turned away. Just because he’d stepped on a bear trap, one time, distracted by the way her hair stuck to her face in the rain. One time! Or two, if one was to count the time he’d been to busy laughing at her joke to notice the old rusted trap. But he certainly didn’t. He was hardly even watching her that time.

“You take so much joy in my suffering.” Alistair eyed the mage beside him fondly. He almost enjoyed the teasing and knowing looks from the wicked old lady.

“Are you in love?”

Alistair choked on air at Wynne’s question. He tried his best to avoid eye contact. He’d never been in love before. Never even knew what it meant to be loved.

But Elissa. She was strong and smart and beautiful. He felt wanted around her, more than the fool he’d always thought he’d been. Even knee high in the snow of Haven’s mountain she’d made him feel warm.

Maybe he did love her.

He looked up, eyeing her across the camp. Andraste herself couldn’t rival her presence. Elissa looked up, and as he caught her eye she smiled. He smiled back, the truest smile he’d ever given. Between the butterflies dancing about his stomach and the heavy thumping of his heart Alistair could only hear himself think one thing.

He loved her. Definitely. Without a doubt.

He loved Elissa.

 

 


End file.
